Sing Me To Sleep
by laveniis
Summary: The world is ending, Yao is terribly ill, and neither Ivan or Yao know what they want anymore.


**sorry there are probably a bunch of mistakes because im too lazy to proofread but hahah enjoy :)**

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It was the end of the world. That was clear enough for anyone to see. The air was cold and it smelled of smoke almost always, and nobody had caught a glance of the blue sky in weeks. Humanity couldn't even really be referred to as humanity anymore, as most had fallen to the level of murdering and stealing from others because that was the only way to survive in these final days.

Ivan walked the streets, rifle strapped to his back and baseball bat held tightly in his hand. His dear friend was sick and he planned on getting some medication for him, no matter what. He soon approached the pharmacy he still remembered so well. Now it was run-down and most of the shelves had been stripped clean. Ivan had found himself here a couple of times, as Yao's body was not reacting to the sudden changes in the air and earth.

He simply looked over the bodies that covered the streets, so used to seeing them that he didn't get bothered by the terrible smell and sight anymore. Of course, he always found himself unable to glance at one body that was always there. It was the body of a young girl, and her hands still tightly grasped a stuffed rabbit toy. It broke Ivan's heart, but she was just one of the many child victims who had been killed when poisonous fumes had filled the streets when the end began.

In fact, that was why Yao was sick. He was exhibiting the symptoms of someone who just had the flu, so Ivan would buy him flu medicine. Ivan had not gotten sick himself, as he had covered his mouth by his scarf when it happened. He had only pulled Yao from the streets in time to save him from death.

He stepped into the old chemist shop, scanning the aisles for left over flu medicine. The store smelled pretty gross, really. Ivan covered his nose. After minutes of searching, he managed to locate some vials of flu medicine. He also got lucky and found a box of headache tablets, as he found that instead of the flu he was plagued by terrible migraines at times.

As he made his way back to he and Yao's old hideout, a small shack on the outside of the city, he heard something strange. It sounded like footsteps, and they were fast approaching. Ivan readied his bat, prepared for any on coming attacks. A man ran out in a matter of seconds, charging at him with a crowbar. Once he was in range for an attack, Ivan slammed the bat into the side of his head, crushing his skull. Ivan whispered that he was sorry and searched the man's body.

At least some of the countryside still looked somewhat alive. There was only one tree that actually still had leaves that grew on it. Ivan would sometimes bring Yao out into the grasslands to look at it for a while, until he got tired. At least that managed to put a smile on his face. He reached the old home and knocked on the door four times, paused, and then knocked twice. He heard thing being moved behind the door, and then it swung open.

Ivan smiled as the door opened, greeted by the sight of a small, sickly looking man who was clutching a rifle of his own to his chest. He let Ivan in, and then he sat down on an old couch, wrapping a torn blanket around himself. Ivan shut and locked the door behind him, dropping his weapons against the wall near the door. He then shuffled over to the couch and sat beside the poor man.

"I got you more medicine, Yao. Do you want it now?" Ivan asked softly, moving some of Yao's messy and un-brushed hair from his eyes. Yao leant against time, coughing softly.

"Yes," Yao replied, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. "Can you give it to me? My body hurts from walking to the door." Ivan smiled playfully, rubbing Yao's head affectionately. Yao lazily went to bat his large hand away, pouting tiredly.

"Lazy as ever, dear little Yao." Ivan cooed, pressing his lips to Yao's forehead. Yao huffed and looked away; getting bothered by Ivan's pointless teasing. Yao shoved him away and flopped sideways onto the couch, making Ivan laugh very softly. He then reached into his pocket and fished out a vial of flu medicine. He hadn't read the label for it before, so he chose to read its label now. He needed to make sure it would actually help Yao.

After a good look into its details, he deemed it worthy for Yao to use to soothe his sickness. He unscrewed the cap of the vial and poured some of the liquid into the cap. He gently lifted Yao up, so he was leaning in his big arms. He then pushed the cap to Yao's dry lips and Yao opened his mouth to drink it. Yao nearly coughed up the medicine, but was able to stop himself. Ivan gently rubbed his back.

"I hate the medicine around here, it's disgusting. Why can't you find some Chinese medication for me?" Yao whined, shoving him away and flopping onto the couch and covering his head with the blanket. Ivan sighed and stood up; placing the opened medicine and the other medication he'd taken on a table that sat almost sadly by the only window in the shack.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't find any good medication for you. This is all that was left in that pharmacy." Ivan sighed, looking out the window. There was nothing in the plains, except for that singular tree in the distance and the rare bush. He heard Yao just groan and mumbled things to himself. Ivan smiled sadly, glancing away from the window and back to him.

He loved Yao so much, and he still remembered the first time they met as if it had only happened seconds ago. Perhaps he only remembered so clearly now because he was desperately trying to hang onto happy times. Because, no matter how hard he tried to delude himself into thinking things would be fine, he knew that he and Yao were not going to have the happy ending Ivan always wanted. Yao was dying, it was so obvious. When he touched him, he was cold. So cold, and it made Ivan want to pull away every time. Yao could barely walk to the door and back, it's like his heart was just giving up. This was like one of those tragedy romances that Ivan's big sister used to read when they were young.

"-And I hate it! Ivan, are you listening to me?" Yao's voice pulled Ivan away from his sorrowful thoughts. "Obviously not!" he puffed loudly, rolling about on the torn old couch. Ivan smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I was thinking about how nice the sky looks today." Ivan replied.

"We can't even see the sky anymore, its just clouds and pollution." Yao huffed, sitting up and raising his eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I guess you're right." Ivan said softly, shuffling over to Yao and sitting beside him. Yao threw himself on Ivan clumsily. "Now, what were you saying?"

"I was talking about how I hate the way the air smells outside! It reminds me of one of those large factories, which is probably a partial reason to why our world is even like this." Yao sighed. "I just wish I could step outside and I could smell the fresh air. But I can't anymore. I can't even step outside without you holding my arm. I'm only twenty-four, for goodness sakes! Because of those stupid fumes I have the stamina and strength of an elderly man!" he hissed, throwing his hands up in the air due to habit, but just dropped them down because he couldn't even hold them up anymore. Ivan caressed his cheek, sighing softly. "I'm not even me, anymore."

"Oh, come on. You're still you, Yao." Ivan mumbled, playing with the man's hair lovingly. "Even if you can't run outside and climb trees anymore, that doesn't make you a different person." Yao just rolled over, hiding his face against Ivan.

"I feel like an old dog just waiting to be put out of its misery, Ivan. I don't want to see this world end, I just want to die and get it over with." he whispered, closing his eyes and holding onto Ivan's shirt. Ivan sighed deeply, leaning his head back. As much as he didn't want to think about it, he understood why Yao would feel this way. In a way, Yao was pretty much dead anyway. What was the point of life if you couldn't even enjoy it anymore?

"I don't know what you want me to say, I'm sorry." Ivan said softly, resting his hands gently on Yao's side as he lay upon him. Yao was silent for at least three minutes after that comment, and Ivan couldn't think of anything intelligent to say to him.

"Ivan, would you do a favour for me?"

"Anything Yao, anything at all. Just ask me, and I'll do it." Ivan heard Yao take in a deep breath, and he had paused again, as if in thought.

"Please kill me."

Ivan felt his blood run cold, and he was unable to glance down at the man who had now rolled onto his back to stare up at him, pleading him with his faded golden eyes.

"I couldn't possibly…"

"I'm going to die, anyway. We're both going to die, anyway, actually." Yao replied, sitting up and moving off Ivan slowly.

There is no way Ivan could possibly take the life of Wang Yao. He had fallen in love with him six years ago, when Yao was eighteen and he was only seventeen. He didn't believe in that nonsense such as love at first sight, because that certainly wasn't what had happened between them. Honestly, they hadn't realised they were in love until a year later someone asked he and Yao if were dating. Only then did either of them consider the possibility of romance. They had been together ever since they met. Ivan could not kill the man who was the reason his heart was even beating in his chest.

But, on the other hand, he could not force Yao to suffer until the very end. He had to make a decision that was best for both of them.

"Fine… I'll…I'll do it, okay? But only," he felt tears prick at his eyes, and he forced himself to look down at the man he dearly loved. "But only if you kill me too, Yao."

Ivan heard Yao sigh, and it almost sounded like a thoughtful sigh.

"You can still live through this, Ivan. Are you sure?" Yao asked, crossing his frail arms over his chest. Ivan nodded weakly.

"I have no reason to survive if I don't have you by my side."

"You should write a romance novel. I'm sure it would be romantic. But, I know your words are serious and likely aren't meant in a romantic sense." Yao replied, closing his eyes. Ivan whimpered, closing his eyes. "Fine," it seemed that Yao was finally losing his composure in this situation, as a choked sob escaped his lips.

"I'm only doing this because it will put you at peace." Ivan commented quietly, getting up to go locate two shotguns he had stolen from someone at one point during this terrible time. Reluctantly he returned with them, hands trembling as he handed one to Yao. The smaller man examined it, with a frown on his face. Regardless of what Ivan thought, Yao did not want this at all. But now, it seemed to be the only thing that could ever bring him any relaxation.

"I'm sorry it must end this way for us," Yao whimpered, feeling tears begin to well in his eyes as he finally realised what he had asked for. Ivan just nodded his head sadly.

"I love you so much, and I wish I didn't have to do this." he whispered in reply, hesitantly raising his arms to press the gun to Yao's forehead. Yao whimpered, but did the same thing as Ivan did to him.

"I am so sorry," the smaller man wheezed, tears already falling from his eyes.

"So am I." Ivan whimpered, hands trembling with absolute fear. Yao was no better off. If he hesitated, this was going to be even harder to do, so he decided to just start a countdown. "Ten," he watched Yao flinch at the word. Ivan was sure he was partially regretting his request now. But death was something no one could ever just desire, so it was fine to feel fear.

"Nine…" Yao breathed, trying to steady his hold on the small gun that he held in his weak hands.

"Eight," Ivan continued, closing his eyes, unable to look at Yao's face anymore, as it just exhibited overwhelming sadness.

"S-Seven," Yao sobbed, hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Six," Ivan tried to sound brave, but the way his hands shook like Yao's destroyed the possibility of bravery.

"Five…" the dark haired man whimpered, nearly allowing the gun to drop from his hands. He couldn't do this. He couldn't kill Ivan, for he loved him too much. But he couldn't pull away for some reason.

"Four, oh my god, Yao, I love you so much," Ivan cried softly, trembling, trying to hold the gun against his head.

"Three, I love you too- Ivan I…" Yao whimpered, trying to hard to keep the gun still, or up at least.

"Two!" Ivan wailed, finding it hard to breathe at this point. Yao was no better off, obviously.

"One," Yao whispered, sounding so heartbroken, he squeezed his eyes shut and braced for the gun shot.

But there was no sounding of the gunshot in the room, as neither of them had been able to pull the trigger on the other. Yao's shotgun slipped from his hands, falling between them. Ivan angrily threw his gun away, covering his head and falling away from Yao.

"I'm sorry Yao, I just can't do it!" Ivan sobbed, covering his eyes as he wept. Yao just stared down at the gun he had almost used to shoot Ivan. Yao cried too, hands shaking with fear still.

"What am I going to do?" he asked no one in particular, staring down at his trembling hands. Ivan just choked out a sob, rolling onto his side and covering his head.

"Stop talking about it, please!" Ivan cried, appearing as if a terrified child. Yao just stared into space, unable to even understand his own thoughts as of now.

Everything was deathly silent for a long time after that, minus Ivan's sobbing and the occasional emotional breakdowns Yao would have every now and then if he thought into his fate too much. Later, Yao stated that he was hungry, so Ivan stopped his despairing temporarily to get him some food and give him another dose of medication.

And then they just slept. Ivan would have eaten, but he felt too ill to eat. The thought of Yao's blood having been possibly on his hands made him want to throw up. So, eating was certainly out of the question. Ivan held Yao close to himself as he slept, afraid of letting him go. As always, Yao lay rather loose in his arms. The bigger of the two always knew that every night there was a risk that he would wake one morning and Yao would not wake at all. That thought made him sad, but it was a very likely possibility.

That next day, they spoke very little. Ivan was reading an old novel he had read at least seven times during their time in the shack. He remembered every word, line and event in the story. It was short, but it was the only thing worth paying attention to when they first found this place was empty. He looked up in confusion when he heard footsteps, greeted with the sight of Yao shuffling to the door, blanket wrapped rightly around himself.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked softly, closing the book and placing it on the table. Yao puffed out his cheeks and tried to bend down and put on his shoes.

"I'm going outside. I want to look at the tree again. Its spring right now, maybe there will be blossoms." Yao replied, sounding set on going outside. Ivan laughed sadly.

"Maybe, but it's a miracle it's even got leaves. I doubt there will be flowers." Ivan said, getting up and walking over to him. Ivan put on his own boots.

"You doubt everything these days." Yao scoffed, shoving him gently.

"That is because I am no longer hopeful." Ivan replied quietly, letting Yao push him. He heard the small man sigh beside him.

"You're no fun."

"One of us has to be boring."

Yao huffed loudly and leaned against the wall, tired from standing for so long. Ivan tilted his head.

"Do you want to take some medication first?" Ivan asked, worried for his health. He seemed paler than usual today. How strange, perhaps it was just the lighting? Yao shook his head.

"No, I'll be fine. Take me to the tree, dumbface." Yao demanded, crossing his arms over his little chest. Ivan complied, tugging the blanket for securely around Yao and then lifting him into his arms effortlessly. Yao had always been like a feather to hold. Of course, he was quite strong when he wasn't dying from illness.

Ivan pushed open the door, cradling Yao in his arms carefully, and then shut the door behind him. Yao let out a peaceful sigh, going to look at the sky almost excitedly. But once he had looked up, he frowned and closed his eyes again. Ivan supposed he had been hoping the sky would be blue today. He couldn't blame his wishful thinking. The barely alive grass crunched beneath his shoes, and it reminded him of the paddock that he and his sisters used to play in his younger days, He felt sad again, so he stopped thinking of his sisters.

It took a short while to appear at the tree. Yao made a pleased humming noise, opening his eyes to look up the tree, hoping for blossoms.

Yao was disappointed and Ivan sighed.

"So you were right." he said blankly, shifting in Ivan's hold.

"Sorry." Ivan whispered, gently sitting Yao down on an amazingly not dead patch of grass. He sat beside him, pulling the frail man into his arms. He touched at Yao's forehead, finding that it felt warmer than usual. "Are you sure you didn't need medication?" he asked worriedly, leaning his head against Yao's gently.

"Yes, I'm sure." he mumbled, pouting and looking up at the tree. "Hey, sing me that one song."

"Um, pardon? What song do you mean?" Ivan asked, confused.

"You know that one song that your family made you sing with them when you brought me home to meet them for the first time? Even though they were trying to embarrass you, I really liked it. Please sing it for me Ivan. Ivan sighed, but began the song anyway, as reluctant as he was to do so.

Once he finished that song, Yao asked for another song. And by the end of it, Ivan had probably sung almost every song he knew. He asked Yao if he was sick of his stupid voice yet, but he was greeted with no reply. He felt as if he would throw up and as if he pins were being stabbed into every part of his body.

"Yao?" he cried softly, moving Yao so he could examine him. "You're having a nap, right? Right? You're going to wake up now." he whimpered, placing his hands on both of Yao's cheeks. Yao's eyes lazily blinked open again, and Ivan nearly passed out from relief. "God Yao, I thought you died," Ivan wept, cradling Yao in his arms. He yawned and pet Ivan's cheek, smiling.

"I really love you, you know." he cooed softly, creasing his brow as if he were having trouble focusing on his surroundings. "I love your dumb hair, and your pretty purple eyes. Did I tell you I thought you were some anime obsessed weirdo with contacts when we first met?" Yao laughed to himself. Ivan tilted his head, smiling down at him.

"Your voice is so soothing Ivan. Whenever I was mad, if you just spoke to me I would just… feel the anger just melt away. And I…I love you so much, okay? You're just perfect." Yao whispered, dragging his fingers along Ivan's chubby cheeks, pausing to pinch them to smile at the cute face Ivan always made when he pinched them. "I love everything about you."

"It's the same for you, you know. I love you so much, Yao. Your hair is really pretty today." Ivan commented softly, smiling.

"It's always pretty." Yao scoffed.

"I know, I just thought I should tell you again." Ivan hummed, smiling sadly.

"Hey Ivan, can you see the flowers?" Yao asked, hand reaching upwards as if trying to grasp something. But there were no flowers, in fact, there was nothing there. Yao was becoming delusional, and Ivan didn't have the heart to tell him that he was.

"Yeah, I sure can, Yao. They're beautiful." he cooed softly, feeling as if he might just start crying. He had a bad feeling about Yao's sudden issue with seeing things that weren't actually there. "They're falling all over you and me, the tree is just covered in them! I guess you were actually the right one, this time. I should stop doubting everything."

"Yeah, I was right!" Yao cried, smiling and trying to catch the flowers in his hands. "Say, when do you reckon we'll be able to go visit my brother Kiku again?" Yao asked, puffing out his cheeks and pretending to blow flowers away. Ivan was trying so hard not to start crying now.

"We'll go see him tomorrow, okay? We'll go see everyone." he said quietly, stroking his hair, slowly. "They'll all be so happy to see you and me, Yao. I bet they miss us so much."

"Yeah, I bet they do." Yao paused, closing his eyes. "I love you, Ivan. I'm sorry I've been so grumpy lately."

"Its okay, I forgive you. I love you too, Yao." he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. Yao's arms dropped to his side and he let out a long sigh.

"I feel like taking another nap, Ivan." Yao stated, shifting so he was more comfortable in Ivan's arms. Ivan accidentally managed to let out a shaky sob. "Are you alright?" Yao asked, sounding worried.

"I'm just crying because I love you so much. They're happy tears, and I'm glad I know you. I'll sing you a lullaby, you take your nap."

"Okay! Ivan, I love you!"

"I know Yao, I know. I love you, too." Tears freely flowed from his eyes, and he knew there was no point wishing for Yao to stay anymore. He accepted that he was going to lose him. "Hey, look at me." he mumbled, tilting Yao's head up. Yao smiled up at him, and Ivan leant down to gently peck his lips. He felt Yao shift in discomfort when his tears dropped onto his own face. He then pulled away and smiled down at him, and Yao laughed and closed his eyes.

"The lullaby, are you going to sing it now?" Yao hummed softly. Ivan whimpered and nodded his head.

"Of course, I was just distracted because I love you." Ivan whispered. Yao giggled.

"You're dumb."

"I know." Ivan looked at the sky for a moment, wishing for it to be blue just like Yao had wished. "Goodbye," he whispered, so lowly that Yao would have not heard him even breathe it.

And then Ivan sang to him again. He sang his favourite lullaby to his darling Yao and he ran his hands through his dark hair. Yao fell asleep soon, but he was still breathing, so Ivan continued to sing no matter how much his voice broke and cracked and hesitated due to the crying he was doing. Soon his singing voice fell into a simple whisper as Yao was obviously not breathing anymore. He kissed his forehead and rested his forehead against Yao's for a few seconds, thinking.

And then he cried hard, clutching Yao's body to himself and whispering that he loves him so much. After ten minutes of cry, or maybe it was longer… Ivan didn't know, he removed the blanket from Yao's lifeless body, and say Yao against the tree, wrapping the blanket around him. It looked like he was just taking a nap under the tree, with a big smile on his face. Ivan had to look away after a few moments because he would start to weep again.

He walked back to the old house, picked up that novel he had read seven times and walked back to the tree. He sat on the other side of the tree and opened the little book, and picked up where he left off. Ivan read it out loud, as if he were reading to Yao, even though he knew Yao was dead. He knew the illness would have killed him soon; he had just been trying to tell himself otherwise.

He just wanted the world to end, so he could be with Yao again. Ivan read that book through to the end, and then he read it again. He sat at that tree all night, not bothered by the cold or the fact the air seemed to be getting thicker. He just didn't care. When it was daylight again, he read the novel again. Ivan managed to read the novel twice in that day. He didn't even feel hungry anymore, his hunger blocked out by his absolute despair.

The next day, Ivan found it hard to breathe. It was as if all the oxygen was simply being taken from the air. But he read that book to himself and Yao again, and then he read it once more. When he finished it that time, he closed it and placed it beside him. He began blindly talking to Yao, not expecting an answer. He just talked and talked, and spoke everything thought he had and told Yao his entire life. He told Yao what he already knew, and the silly little secrets he had kept from him when things were okay. Ivan eventually talked and cried himself to sleep, as it had become night time.

The air thickened even more during the night. Ivan had dreamt of another time when he and Yao could live in a world where everything was beautiful and did not end in sorrow.

Then there was no oxygen in the air in the early hours of the morning.

And Ivan suffocated in his sleep.


End file.
